It’s 3:30 a.m. here and I should be sleeping, but the problem with that is that it’s only 10:30 p.m. in Atlanta and my body appears to be on Atlanta time. John met me at the airport in London this morning and aside from a nap of about an hour during our 5 hour drive back to Cornwall, I haven’t really slept since I managed to get about 4 hours Monday night. I tend not to be a big sleeper anyway with 5 hours being a regular night for me, but I can’t believe I’m still wide awake right now.
I even took two Tylenol PM tablets on the plane, but nothing happened and I spent the whole flight watching hour after hour of movies and TV programs that I never see over here. I managed to read half of the paperback book I bought at the airport and having had no sleep on the plane, I thought by now I would be doing some serious snoozing.
Since it appears I’ve been deserted by the sandman, I’ve been going through one of the projects that I started while home for the past three weeks in Atlanta. I spent about a week of 8 to 9 hours days going through tons of old photographs, letters, and assorted documents scanning almost 6500 separate items into my computer.
It was tough. Seeing my own history as well the photographs and letters of family members no longer living waiting to be sorted was overwhelming and felt never ending at times. I finally just sorted everything into two piles, one for those being scanned for a digital next life and the rest into the pile marked for things no longer treasured but instead bound for the trash.
I’ll say more on this later because all of sudden I think I may be able to finally sleep. I’ll leave you with a few pictures to illustrate my point and I’ll be back tomorrow with a bit more.
This is a postcard sent by my great uncle Hugh three months before he died in France in 1944.
How can this be anything but a treasure…